Maura's Memoirs
by pyrocopwolf227
Summary: A series of stories written from the perspective of Dr. Maura Isles set in the alternative universe known as: "Lupus Amicitia" with werewolf Jane/Vuk. And Maura Isles... unique human or potential werewolf?
1. Intro

**A/N: A forthcoming story written from the perspective of Dr. Maura Isles set in the Alternative Universe of** _ **"Rizzoli & Isles"**_ **known as** _ **"Lupus Amicitia."**_ **I** **n this AU- Detective Jane Rizzoli is a werewolf. The OC= the wolf nature named "Vuk"... which was named by Maura.**

 **"Vuk" being the Serbian word for "wolf" in which Maura Isles (as well as Sasha Alexander in real life) being fluent in the Serbian language.**

 **However, is Maura Isles simply a unique human being or possibly something more… such as a potential werewolf?**

 **This set of "Memoirs" can be read as a stand alone story… however, it's best to have at least read the 3 separate "Acts" of the** _ **"Lupus Amicitia"**_ **series prior to reading this particular story for background and character development. While it doesn't have to be, can be read alongside** _ **"Vuk's Vignettes"**_ **series (forthcoming** _ **Volume II**_ **and already established** _ **"Vignette"**_ **chapters).**

 **So, standby for the first chapter/potential prologue! And hope you dear readers will be interested in this particular new story I've now got spinning along with all of the multiple ones I have in the works! Feel free to review and be kind and leave decent critique, no trolling!**

 **~pyrocopwolf227**


	2. Chapter 1 (Prologue)

**A/N: Finally here! Hope this perspective from Dr. Maura Isles is worth reading!**

 _ **Story Setting:**_ between Season 1 and 2 of the official TV show: _"Rizzoli & Isles"_ and set in the Alternative Universe of the _"Lupus Amicitia"_ universe of werewolf Jane Rizzoli/Vuk and Maura Isles/unique human or potential werewolf?

* * *

I release another sigh as I conduct another walk-through of the guesthouse; double-checking to ensure everything is in order and properly set up before Angela's arrival… which should be any moment now.

 _"… more like the zillionth time!"_ I somehow hear Jane Rizzoli's ever sarcastic and annoyed tone of voice in my imagination.

This causes me to especially pause and I actually have to grip the edge of the kitchenette's countertop as I nearly force myself to take several deep breaths. My eyes automatically close in the unconscious evolutionary instinct of hoping to block out the mind's flashbacks of specially stressful and traumatic events. ***1**

Thankfully my heart doesn't race to near arrhythmia levels as it did during those initial weeks and month following the siege at Boston Police Headquarters. The siege in which 3 out of the total number of 8 people were killed by corrupt police officers. The siege in which both Jane and her brother, Frankie Rizzoli came close to losing their lives as well!

My eyes open as I quickly swallow against the impending sob and take a deep breath. I can't do this now! I can't have Angela Rizzoli arriving and having to do her comforting with all of the stresses she has going on in her own life… not including Frankie and Jane's individual recoveries. Even though they're both relatively back to normal- Frankie actually returned to full active status nearly 2 months ago; however, Jane is still on medical leave. Thankfully, my very unique, detective friend is at home now in her apartment instead of in the hospital or a rehab facility!

I can easily imagine Vuk is just as happy (if not more so) as her human symbiant to be home instead. Sometimes it's difficult to accurately discern both the detective's and the wolf's own individual frustrations, impatience, and other feelings because they're so much alike, Jane and Vuk. I've no doubt they both would deny, protesting this long, repeatedly observed aspect of mine! This causes me to smile, which helps fight against these fading anxious feelings I've been experiencing. Vuk always seemed instrumental whenever it came to my experiencing stress. ***2** Sometimes just imagining my Wolf Friend's sweet face will manage in cheering me up and somehow giving me the strength to continue. She especially gave me that sense of vigor during those intense moments in the morgue while conducting emergency medical care techniques on Frankie during the siege.

While most consider that critical moment between Jane and Marino outside the headquarters' front steps to be sheer adrenaline on Detective Rizzoli's part, I actually know that it was so much more. Even if I didn't have the extraordinary mental or emotional connection with Vuk, I still believe I heard the wolf's desperate roar integrated (or accompanying?) Jane's own, equally hopeless scream as I witnessed the inhuman energy wrestle the captor's hand and directing the gun's muzzle against her own abdomen.

My body trembles slightly as my memories replay that pivotal moment once more as my ears practically hear the boom of the gun's discharging the bullet, which tore through the werewolf's body and killing Marino. I literally discovered Detective Marino's entire fate several days AFTER that particular day. It's almost appalling to consider that the physician part of me literally didn't care about the fallen cop as I rushed into Jane's wounds.

I, Dr. Maura Isles, literally didn't even consider Detective Marino's condition as I dashed to Detective Rizzoli's (and Vuk's) side! As a medical doctor, I'm legally and morally obligated to assess and treat ALL of those I encounter in an incident such as that one! At the very least implement a triage assessment… which in hindsight, my treating Jane first was the correct course of action. However, at that precise moment, I could not have accurately known that because I allowed myself to succumb to what my therapist describes as: "tunnel vision."

"Tunnel Vision" in which all I saw was my friend: Jane Rizzoli… and Vuk, ignoring Detective Marino entirely! He could've still been alive at that moment and died as I was attending to Jane! I could've been held legally responsible for his death and be at risk of losing my credentials and license as a medical doctor had he'd not died instantly or it had been ascertained by both police and federal investigators of the siege that the corrupt police detective had survived the gunshot wound Jane Rizzoli inflicted upon herself in order to end the hostage situation. In fact, it wasn't until after a few nightmares (during those first several weeks I could sleep) and some guided memory retrieval techniques with my counselor that I would learn Detectives Frost and Korsak were actually right beside me there on the concrete assisting with Jane's wounds. So, one of them or another police officer might have checked Marino's vitals, which I try comforting myself with the notion that if he were still alive, they likely would have told me so I might have been able to attend him. However, it often doesn't give me the solace as much as I would like. Because, would I have actually stopped my efforts on my best friend and attend to him? Most of the time, I honestly don't believe I would have. I'm afraid my "tunnel vision" would have remained; possibly intensifying had anyone tried redirecting my attention anywhere other than Jane and Vuk.

While neither of them was in the ambulance with me along with the paramedic… where Jane and Vuk briefly coded, but thankfully got them back before arriving at the hospital- Frost and Korsak were there beside me the whole time as I … we waited. Waiting however many hours it was that emergency surgeons spent trying to repair Jane Rizzoli's body. Time no longer…

* * *

…the sudden sounds of a closing vehicle door following the sounds of Angela Rizzoli's voice startled me back to the present. I'm somewhat astonished to discover myself to be actually sitting on the small bench in the courtyard separating the guesthouse from the main one. It's disconcerting (un-nerving) to realize that I have no recollection of exiting the smaller house to sitting out here! Could I have gone into the main house and accomplish some task but not remember it?

"Hello Angela," I'm greeted by my 'new tenant' with a fierce hug. "Anything I may help you with?"

"Yeah!" Frankie's voice greets from behind the raised trunk lid. "Can… help me unload these boxes and stuff!" I hear a loud exhale as I come around the rear of the car after showing Angela the door to the guesthouse. I quickly rush in as Frankie nearly loses his grasp on a large box.

"You probably shouldn't be exerting yourself too much!" I quietly inform him as he allows me to assist in lowering the box to the ground.

The younger Rizzoli only grunts a small huff as he straightens and I notice his eyes especially glance about. "Just seeing if Ma's in range," he softly intercepts my intention to speak. The expression in his eyes changed to a mixture of both anger and sadness along with another emotion or feeling I can't quite discern.

"Don't be too surprised if Ma's not able to speak from time to time," Frankie informs me as we lift another large box together from the trunk. "She hardly said a word on the drive over here… which for her, _very_ unusual! I can't remember the last time she was this way..." I hear him wince slightly as we lowered the box down to the other one. "For Ma to be this emotional…" Frankie heaved a sigh as he brushed some light dust from his hands, "to the point that she can barely speak…" Frankie can only shake his head, unable to articulate his own feelings.

I can barely hum in wonder, let alone express anything verbally. This indeed is highly peculiar for the Rizzoli Mother! She's always so outgoing and verbally expressive and always willing to be there for anyone who might need encouragement or simply cheering up! While some might disagree, (not difficult to imagine for some such as Jane), I always enjoyed visiting with Angela and seldom felt any of the displeasure or annoyance Jane often discloses. ***3**

"Is…" I softly clear my throat as I pull out the last suitcase. "Is there any particular reason for her silence?"

Frankie sighed heavily once more as he leaned on his hands after closing the trunk. "I think it's everything… the emotional stuff." Another exhale leaves his mouth as the young police officer leans more forward, his lower arms now resting on the trunk's surface. "Everything from these past few months, even before the siege is catching up and starting to practically overwhelm her."

His dark brown eyes look up to meet mine. "Did you know that my younger brother, Tommie's parole was postponed? In fact, Ma and Pops received the call from him that he wasn't coming home while the siege was in progress… and then they get the call on top of that stating their other two kids are seriously injured in a police shootout."

We exchange an understanding expression with our eyes, words not being necessary to convey how we individually feel regarding that ordeal and the aftermath.

"Along with the stresses of Jane and me in the hospital," Frankie continues as he diverts his view downward to his fidgeting fingers. "Plus, whatever else has been going on between my parents that I'm not privy to… I imagine it's been too much for them both to handle."

I simply nod with silent understanding, remembering those few moments I'm privy to of overhearing the Rizzoli Parents arguing at the hospital once Frankie and Jane achieved more stable medical conditional status, although Jane's took much longer than her brother's. Once the infected tissue was surgically removed and the proper treatment was implemented for the werewolf detective, did Jane Rizzoli finally begin improving in a more positive direction. ***4**

"Perhaps all they need," I delicately begin, "is some time apart and in some space of their own to sort out all of their feelings. Your parents can still reconcile."

The Rizzoli cop hesitantly shakes his head as his eyes, so much like Jane's; however, different due to the wolf nature sharing an existence with his sister meets mine again. "I dunno," he huffs in a defeated manner. "Again, I can't be sure if I've ever remembered seeing Ma this way. And as expressive as she is, it's easy to think she's _**always**_ emotional. Plus, if she and Pop get back together, it won't be at the same house…" he looks away. "They're having to sell the house," this comes out in such a low tone of voice that I nearly, actually wished to have misheard him.

I then sigh myself as I hear this latest piece of news. While I have only been to the Rizzoli Family house a few times for the occasional family dinner, I can understand the associated stresses having recently purchased a newer house while also selling the former one I used to reside in. However, I can imagine all of the collective, as well as individual, memories of the Rizzoli Family, have made over the few decades they have spent there.

"Look," Frankie straightens his posture in order to face me directly. "Are you sure you wanna do this? It's no problem for her to stay at my place while she finds a place of her own."

I discreetly took a deep inhale. No doubt Jane would be more verbally expressive (not so different from Angela) regarding her feelings over this situation. In fact, does she even know about this particular transaction between her mother and me yet?

"Yes," I easily and genuinely smile at him. "I'm sure."

Frankie briefly looks away with the appearance of reluctance and hesitation, so I gently take his hand into mine, which causes him to return his attention back to me.

"It's really not a problem," I conveyed in a certain tone of voice, yet retaining my smile. "So much has occurred within your whole family in such as short span of time." My fingers gently tightened my grasp around his hand. "As you accurately stated moments ago, everything's starting to catch up and all of you are going to have to deal with in your own way.

"With Angela being here," I continue. "She can have the space to sort out her own feelings while at the same time, not having to worry about intruding upon yours or Jane's own space."

Frankie seems to gradually nod before looking downward at my hand in his. However, I did catch a distant, somewhat haunted expression cross into his eyes before my losing sight of them. His thumb gently traces across the back of my hand in an understanding manner. An understanding with having endured a shared, traumatic experience.

Frankie's grip softly tightened before releasing my hand. "I, umm…" he cleared his throat. "I better go get the rest of Ma's stuff before my dad locks the place up."

I return a nod of my own and slowly pick up one of the suitcases, which is old enough to not have any wheels as luggage commonly has today. "How many more boxes do you estimate there will be?" I inquire as Frankie stacks a few of the smaller items more neatly on top of the two larger moving boxes.

"Shouldn't be more than five boxes…" he briefly paused to ensure nothing would accidentally topple over. "I know there are at least two large boxes like these." He gestured towards the large boxes we unloaded together and returned his gaze to me. "Is it gonna be a problem or something?" His eyebrows furrowed with growing concern. "Is Ma bringing too much stuff?"

"Oh no!" I rapidly attempt in reassuring him. "I was simply curious."

"Are you sure it's gonna be okay with all this stuff of Ma's?" Frankie couldn't seem to help but ask again. As if he either isn't convinced or needs some measure of extra assurance personally.

"Yes, I'm sure!" I couldn't help but laugh slightly as my smile widened. "If there's not enough space for all of Angela's things in the guesthouse, I have a basement where we can store any extra items."

Frank Rizzoli Jr. finally smiles back and gently pulls me into a loose, brotherly type of hug as his eyes take on a shy, bashful kind of expression. It conveys all of those things he wishes to say, but either cannot for various preconceived reasons or doesn't know how to express them.

"Thank-you doesn't seem right for what all you're doing for my mother," his voice sounding thick as if he's trying to repress an emotion or potential sob. He then steps back from my personal space.

"It's all right," I reassure him with another smile. "Go and get the rest of your mother's things and I'll help her get settled in."

Frankie simply nods with an awkward grin and settles into the driver's seat. Although he's completely healed from the internal injuries caused by the bullet's impact on his protective vest, I can't help but notice the very subtle, unconscious wincing the police officer occasionally will make.

I can't help but sigh as I can only conclude Frankie's body still has some healing left to accomplish despite all of the time that's transpired. Even though he's been able to resume his duties as a Boston Police Officer, I can't help but wonder just how much more healing Jane has left to do. Do I start considering if an actual visit to Jane's apartment will be worthwhile? She recently asked for some personal space and her not answering my attempts in calling the last few days would seem to indicate she's still not ready. Thankfully, she will answer my text messages… knowing that I won't tolerate complete and utter silence. Or perhaps Vuk won't permit her to. While it's comforting to at least have that connection, the werewolf's texts are only answered with extremely short to single word responses, which is another unusual characteristic of her texting conversations compared to those in the past.

 _Perhaps Angela may have some insight,_ I remember thinking as I carried two, very large and non-wheeling suitcases towards the guesthouse.

Even though the door was partially ajar, I didn't immediately enter. Having set the suitcases down, I decided to go ahead and move the boxes closer so no one would have to walk further to retrieve them. While moving most of the smaller boxes were practically easy, it was those three large ones I assisted Frankie with that had me most concerned. While they were relatively heavy, it's also their size which would cause their overall handling to be awkward and difficult for one person to manage. ***5**

 _I should've purchased a dolly transport assistance device!_ My thoughts couldn't help voicing my emotional feelings as I helplessly considered the large boxes and recalling the equipment I had rented last year for when I moved into this particular house. ***6**

"Maura!" Angela's voice suddenly calls out. "You shouldn't be moving all this by yourself!" The Rizzoli Mother rushes up to me and quickly removes some of the smaller items from off the top of the box I'm actually holding in my hands. "Where in the world did Frankie go? Surely he didn't…"

"It's all right, Angela!" I couldn't help the chuckle escaping my mouth. "I told Frankie to go ahead and retrieve the rest of your things while we could start settling you in here."

Mrs. Rizzoli manages to smile as we manage to lift one of the larger boxes and begin carrying it together. However, she doesn't say anything for a short while, confirming her son's words from earlier. We eventually move everything inside the small house quicker than I estimated. Both of us easily settled into an unspoken form of working in unpacking boxes while Angela took the suitcases into the bedroom and started putting everything away in there. While a part of me yearned to be engaged in some form of conversation, the overall silence wasn't awkward or tense. In fact, it actually gave me a sense of nostalgia. The nostalgia of all those times of silence spent either with my parents as a young child and even at boarding school.

Speaking of nostalgia, one of these large boxes I just opened contains at least three large picture frames that scarcely come close in being too large for the cardboard. I carefully remove them one by one from what appears to be a hand knit or crochet afghan woven some time ago. After gently laying the delicate throw on the nearby sofa, I decided to use the piano's built-in display that spans the entire instrument for the positioning of sheet music or thin bound books containing composed music and graciously prop these pieces of art along the small tray. I realize they are either charcoal renderings or possibly prints similar to charcoal sketches of three young children- one girl and two boys. ***7**

I suddenly gasp as the realization enlightens me! These are the Rizzoli Children in their prepubescent, possibly younger years! The eyes of the girl and one of the boys are nearly identical both in their physical characteristics as well as in expression while the other boy's eyes show a lighter characteristic with a more mischievous type of expression compared to the other two. The two, darker eyed boy and girl are undoubtedly Frankie and Jane while this other boy must be their younger brother, Tommie.

I gasp once more as a hand gently touches my shoulder. Turning in its direction, I behold that Angela Rizzoli has come up alongside me without my noticing. The older woman's eyes fondly study the three young faces metaphorically looking back at us from their display on the antique piano.

"They're beautiful," I could only state after a short while.

Unshed tears glisten in the mother's eyes as she nods in agreement. "Yes," Angela's thick voice shook and I could hear the audible sounds of her swallowing, likely forcing herself from releasing a potential sob. I gently wrap my arm around the older woman's shoulders, wordlessly informing her that it's okay for her to release her pent-up feelings through weeping. Then, precisely as if she somehow heard my unspoken thoughts, Angela Rizzoli broke down and fully surrendered her willful resistance to her emotional state. We eventually ended up sitting down on the sofa, my arms never leaving the crying woman for a single moment.

How long we sat there as Angela underwent this weeping, emotional catharsis; I still do not know. While I shed some tears of my own, I overall maintained an emotionally strong pillar for the older woman to lean upon. I do know Frankie had arrived with his mother's remaining effects. His face displayed some surprise of Angela's state but simultaneously conveyed an understanding. He covertly passed me a note stating that he had left the remaining few boxes outside the door in the courtyard and also expressing his desire in not wanting to disturb this particular and especially private moment of his mother's. I simply nodded my understanding and the Rizzoli Police Officer departed, leaving us alone once more in the guesthouse.

"I-I'm…" Angela briefly hiccupped as she endeavored to speak after her crying subsided. "I'm… s-sorry!" The older woman struggles to wipe her face with the sleeves of her shirt.

"It's quite all right," I gently patted Angela's shoulder before rising to my feet and walking over into the kitchenette. "It's been quite a tumultuous few months on so many, various levels." After retrieving a couple of items and several bottles from the refrigerator, I arrive back into the lounge area and sat back down beside my new tenant.

Angela sniffs in her attempt to smile as she accepted both the dampened dishcloth as well as the dry one. I opened my own bottle of water and take a few generous sips while Angela both wiped away any remaining tears and soothing her eyes and flushed face with the moist cloth.

Even though human weeping provides various positive releases on multiple biological and emotional levels, it does carry the negative aspect in the form of dehydration and causing one to often feel a headache once the crying has finished. Plus we have already exerted some energy and strength in moving various, heavy items along with what minimal unpacking so far.

"… hated them," Angela's words filtered through my thoughts.

"Pardon me?" I returned my entire focus back upon the Rizzoli Mother.

"Frank…" Angela huffed as she dabbed her eyes and looking back at the pictures on the piano. "He hated that I spent all that money to have those pictures made."

I followed her line of sight and focused back on the three young faces.

"Frank was struggling with his plumbing business at the time and Janie was growing so fast… and Frankie. Just wanted to somehow keep a part of her and Frankie cute… cute and young forever.

"Their father thought it was foolish," Angela continued after finally taking a drink of her own water. "Like, 'What's wrong with a simple picture from a camera?' he constantly complained!" The woman huffed as she furiously rubbed an eye with the back of a fisted hand.

"While…" Angela breathed deeply after taking another sip, "I can understand. His words make perfect sense, cuz I had… still got tons of pictures of the kids that I could've professionally framed, but this." She weakly gestured towards the frames. "These were different… more special."

Another huffed exhale escaped from the sad woman as she averted her eyes and seemingly commenced rubbing a hand on one of her pants legs. The vulnerability I somehow detect radiating ( _could this be due to my being so attuned to Vuk… and Jane?_ ) from Angela is SO UNLIKE what I would typically feel around her.

"Is that really strange or stupid?" I nearly couldn't hear Angela's words due to her desperately low voice. "That I wanted something extra special of my children's youth? Was it a waste of money?"

"Of course not!" My response was so automatic that I wasn't immediately conscious of it at the present moment. As if it were some long, evolutionary instinct deeply ingrained within a person's being. "I personally see nothing wrong in wanting to do something as you did. In fact, my mother- Constance Isles is an artist and I've known people who would have pictures such as those," I then motion towards the three pictures. "Even of children's faces who they do not know will adorn the walls of their houses and offices."

Several moments of silence lapsed between us, neither of us saying anything. Only the periodic soft sounds of our uncapping and recapping and sipping from our respected water bottles.

"Wonder what's keeping Frankie?" Angela eventually spoke up while also standing to her feet and walking over to where she had laid down her purse.

I merely arose to my feet and took the tear soaked dishcloths to the sink countertop in the kitchenette while the Italian tenant rummaged through her purse for her cellular telephone.

"That's strange," I hear Angela murmur.

Turning in her direction while drying my freshly washed hands. "What is it?"

"Frankie only says: 'I love you!' and there's something else sent from his phone that I can't tell…" she holds out the opened flip cover phone to me. "What is that?"

I quickly finish drying my hands before taking the device from her. On the small digital display screen, I notice what appears to be an additional text message from Frankie, but carries no actual letters or text in general. ***8**

"Oh," I realize after briefly squinting and noticing some familiar features. "It's a picture! I believe Frankie sent a picture of the guesthouse outside!"

"Why would he tell me that he loves me and then send a picture of the guesthouse?" Angela's voice follows me to the door.

I can't help feeling a mild flushing of my skin beneath my shirt along with an elevated pulse rate as I open the door to reveal what I suspected.

Sure enough, the boxes Frankie left just outside the door greet us. The gentle breeze filtering between the two houses cause a torn fragment of paper held down by one of my garden rocks to slightly wave at us.

"Oh," Angela softly spoke as the realization adorned her face. "He musta come by while I was bawling my eyes out." A mild blush started forming on her face and I couldn't help but wonder if my own face was starting to match my internal flushed emotions.

"I'm sorry!" Angela suddenly declared. "This's all embarrassing! And I'm sorry for putting you through all of this!"

I quickly intercept Angela's hand pulling away from the box's surface before she could turn away entirely. It takes my near insistent squeezing grasp in order to have the other woman reluctantly meet my just as insistent eyes.

"Angela," my tone is deliberate, yet gentle. "Please don't feel especially or extra self-conscious around me. As I said before, it's been several very turbulent and intensely stressful few months. It's very natural to experience the feelings and emotional turmoil that you've been feeling at the moment."

Angela just as reluctantly nods, hopefully in agreement with my words, and I gradually released her hand. The Italian woman rubs her eyes to prevent any further tears from escaping her eyes as she takes several deep breaths in order to regain her composure.

"Emotional responses are essentially the human body's relief, a release valve for whenever the pressures of stress become too great for an individual's ability to handle." I couldn't help speaking as Angela and I moved the boxes inside the guesthouse. "And not every individual person has the same type of responses or even the same tolerance threshold for whenever stressful times occur."

Angela both huffs verbally as well as respiratory as we set the final box from outside down on top of another. "If that's the case, then Janie's got no relief valve!"

This outburst has me taken aback; however, I didn't have a proper moment to reply when Angela continues. "You would think Jane would be more understanding and cooperative towards the rest of us who've had to endure the stress and consequences of what she did that day! I've tried being there for her at her apartment ever since she got released from the hospital, but she's kicked me outta her place!"

"Why would Jane do that?" I couldn't resist the shocked expressions, both in my voice and undoubtedly in my facial expression.

"I dunno!" The Rizzoli Mother huffed as she threw her hands out in a commonly described shrugging gesture and then nearly slams her hands down upon the now open box. "I was just trying to help her out by keeping things clean and orderly… next thing I know is Jane banishing me from her place!" ***9** Another defeated form of a sigh emitted from Angela as she started removing several items from the box.

"She told me that my key to her apartment is 'for emergencies only!'" Angela emphasized using what I'm told are air quotes with her fingers. "And that 'cleaning my apartment isn't an emergency!' and Janie then shut the door in my face!"

The older Rizzoli woman furiously rubbed her eyes before turning away and picking up a boxed marked: "Bathroom/Bedroom" and started heading off into the aforementioned room, leaving me alone in the living area.

I must admit that these words of Jane's mother are somewhat shocking, but given my past observations as well as experiences of the interactions between the Rizzoli Mother and Daughter… there's likely more to the situation than just Angela's perceptions.

 _And there's more to it than even the inclusion of Jane's perceptions,_ my thoughts ruminate as I continue emptying the box's contents.

My new, troubled tenant continued to remain behind closed doors of the bedroom as I finished with one box and commenced emptying the next one labeled: "Kitchen." Even though I purchased various dish items to go in the kitchenette cabinets, I removed them and placed Angela's in their place. While I can easily imagine her protests in saying this particular action on my part isn't necessary, I want Angela to feel at home here as much as possible. And what better way for one to feel at home with all of their personal items surrounding them as possible?

Despite my natural, on the go habit of neatly arranging things as I accomplish tasks, I would not be surprised if Angela comes by later and rearranges things to suit herself. Which is perfectly fine… I mean, I would probably do the same thing if our roles were reversed.

I eventually realized that the sounds of movement and arranging of items in the bedroom had ceased and I continued to unpack the remaining boxes. Angela likewise continued to remain behind closed doors as I finished the overall task. After some minutes of deliberating what to do next, I carry all but one of the empty boxes across the courtyard and deposit them into the dining room as I enter through the door of my house. If Angela should require any of them for storage of any extraneous items, they will still be here. But perhaps their immediate absence in the guesthouse will give my guest a sense of accomplishment or at the very least, progress.

* * *

Later that evening, I carry a pot of hot tea suitable for drinking prior to retiring for bed over to the small house. Thankfully, Angela was now sitting in the living room contemplating the piano arranged along one wall towards a corner. However, the three large pictures artistically rending the young Rizzoli Children are now standing, propped up against the wall just to one side beside the antique instrument instead of where I placed them before.

An easy silence remains between us as I sat the tray on the low table between us and I begin pouring the two cups. In fact, Angela's rasped "thanks" was barely audible as she graciously accepted the cup from me. Another few minutes of silence continued before Angela's soft tone of voice spoke. "That's Janie's piano, isn't it?"

My eyes beheld the instrument for several moments before turning back to my guest. "Yes, it is." My voice was equally as soft as Angela's.

"Janie never really gave me an answer to why it was no longer in her place," the older woman sipped her tea. "For some reason, I could always sense that not only did she not wanna talk about it, but that it was something extremely difficult. And, if I pushed insistently, then it would become only more painful and difficult for us both."

I simply nodded with hopes of merely understanding to Angela's point-of-view even though I knew far more. Hopefully my more consciously controlled respirations would keep my pulse from increasing and I won't have a rush of hives if Angela's inquiries were to continue. Not only do I feel that it isn't my proper place to speak about it, but it feels as if it were a betrayal of Jane's (and Vuk's) trust. Plus the circumstances surrounding what caused my werewolf friend to get rid of it… is exceedingly painful for us both, and Angela Rizzoli.

Jane's mother, too, went through a lot of emotional turmoil herself while her daughter recovered through the aftermath of Charles Hoyt. Even if it were my place, I couldn't bear telling Angela what that horrible man and his apprentice did to the piano when they broke in and ransacked Jane's apartment. ***10**

Of my discovering the words etched into the antique wood. My hesitant, reluctant informing the Boston Police Detective. The sudden rage transforming from Jane's trembling body as her eyes likewise gleamed a blazing red as the wolf's own fury joined her symbiant's. As I struggled to restrain Jane (and Vuk), my own fears nearly erupted of not being able to adequately calm either nature from their blinding anger. I then had to resort in pressing one of Jane's ears to my upper chest in order for both Jane and Vuk to hear my heart beating and thankfully their resistance to my efforts decreased. I then concentrated on my respirations to not only maintain a steady pulse rate but to also combine in the overall sounds of calming the duel natures within Jane Rizzoli.

After everything calmed back down, I offered to have the piano restored by some friends of mine who specialized in such things, but Jane refused and seemingly impulsively decided in getting rid of it. Despite her not having to confirm it, I could sense Vuk's own protests in the detective's sudden decision and Jane only seemed more resolved in her wish for me to get rid of her late grandmother's piano.

The issue in potentially betraying Jane's trust is that I never truly got rid of it. I kept it in a specialized storage facility after having it restored prior to moving here. Jane and Vuk still don't even know that I didn't truly carry out the detective's wishes and I had the piano moved into the guesthouse after I settled in with my own moving. I didn't anticipate having to offer Angela to live here, but I will have to deal with Jane's potential discovery eventually.

"I'm glad Jane entrusted its care to you instead of simply getting rid of it," Angela finally tells me with a real smile.

I only smiled in return as I felt a mild flush begin underneath my shirt, but I try to associate it only with having Angela Rizzoli's sweet compliment instead of withholding the whole details surrounding why the piano's here.

* * *

 ***1: Briefly seen at the beginning of Season 2's episode 1: "We Don't Need Another Hero" where Maura sits down with her shoes before leaving for Jane's apartment to drag her to the ceremony. The M.E.'s having flashbacks of that day of the siege.**

 ***2: When Maura first meets her wolf friend in "Lupus Amicitia" to which she eventually names "Vuk" (the Serbian word for "wolf").**

 ***3: Seen and implicated in "Lupus Amicitia: Act III" Chapters 2 & 10 and possibly seen in forthcoming "Vuk's Vignettes: Volume II"**

 ***4: Forthcoming Chapter 1/Vignette to "Vuk's Vignettes: Volume II"**

 ***5: As one of my military specialties prior to going into meteorology, I handled all sorts, types, as well as sizes of military property for packing and shipping. There were often boxes (and even wooden crates) that wouldn't necessarily be heavy weight wise, but would "regulation require" 2 or more people to move them!**

 ***6: A forthcoming "Vuk's Vignettes" chapter set around episode 7: "Born To Run"**

 ***7: These pictures are briefly seen on the hallway wall of the house in the Pilot/First Episode where Frankie and Jane pass through en route to the kitchen with Jane's broken nose from their basketball game in the driveway.**

 ***8: The TV series of** _ **"Rizzoli & Isles" **_**started just before the new era of smartphones- which we can see with Jane's own phone in the Pilot episode and the following first season. Plus Angela is seen using a "non smartphone" in various episodes before obtaining her eventual smartphone that she used to capture a picture of the person who stole Maura's identity in Season 5's episode: "In Plain View."**

 ***9: Per Season 2's first episode: "We Don't Need Another Hero" where Maura goes over to pry Jane out of her apartment for the awards ceremony and Jane threatens to kick out Maura if the M.E. starts cleaning up. "Is that why you banned your mother?" Dr. Isles then asks.**

 ***10: Chapter 3 (4) of "Vuk's Vignettes" where Maura and Jane discover the defacing, damage to the piano and Jane's sudden decision to get rid of it.**


	3. I'm still here!

Hello Everyone!

In light of recent tragedy striking some dear friends who are like another set of parents along with 2-3 other unexpected deaths in less than a single month, I figured I better show that I'm still here!

I will not bore you dear readers… if any still follow any of my stories (I certainly do NOT blame any of you for moving onward) of any excuses on my end! Essentially started as "writer's block" and then a seasonal job on top of my regular one which involves 98% entirely of outside manual labor, plus the Summer heat and sun! Then ended up requiring half of my bottom teeth pulled out due to an infection… still recouping from the nearly 2 months of antibiotics and JUST NOW had the stitches removed from my "cratered gums!" Now having to get used to a partial denture… guess that makes me a mid 30s old lady now?!

Then tragic loss of my pastor's youngest son- mid 30s who sought a permanent solution for his problems… which NONE of us knew due to his fun loving personality and ever-present bright smile. Never seen so many burly men- (worked in the oil field) weep and hug each other before! I've known my pastor's wife longer than they've been married and before he even joined our particular faith. Susan loves her two stepsons as if they were her own and I view them as brothers!

But I have NOT forgotten these stories! Nor have I abandoned them! The paper notebooks where I write my story chapters in go with me EVERYWHERE and I'm still struggling to "break through" this wall of writer's block! I cannot be certain when any chapter(s) will be forthcoming… but I'm trying!

To anyone still following my stories, THANK-YOU for remaining and being patient in this unanticipated hiatus! Certainly thankful this Thanksgiving for people who are willing to read what I write! You all are essentially what gives my stories their life because what point is writing if there are no readers? So, should any of you doubt your worth, message me and I'll do my best to ensure YOU ARE IMPORTANT!

Hopefully see you all soon with another chapter… just wish I could say when!

Respectfully,

Pyrocopwolf227


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